iHate Everything About You
by liz-beth531
Summary: "What do you want from me?" she finally screams, feeling as if she's reached her breaking point. Before either of them knows what is happening, Freddie grabs Sam roughly by her shoulders and pins her against the wall. "Everything," he growls.-Seddie. Rated M for some strong, mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! So, I found this story written in an old journal. I've meant to finish it for a while, but I guess I never got around to it. Anyway, this story is loosely based off of the songs "Breathe" by Anna Nalick and "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace. I obviously don't own iCarly or either of the songs. Anyway, I've posted it once before, but took it down because it wasn't really going anywhere. It's been slightly revised, and now I have everything figured out. Hope you like it!**

2:00 A.M. A cell phone glows in the darkness and begins its metallic ringing. The song is "Riot" by Three Days Grace. Even through the haze of half-consciousness, the owner of the phone knows exactly who is calling.

"Hey," she mumbles into the phone with a stifled yawn. She can hear faint traces of sobbing on the other end. The girl rubs her eyes and sits up. "Sam?"

"H-hey," her best friend chokes out. "How's it going?" The girl can hear the tears in Sam's voice.

"What's wrong?"

Sam sniffs.

"Nothing. I'm alright."

The girl rolls her eyes. "You didn't call me at two a.m. crying because nothing's wrong."

Sam sniffs again. "I can't do this anymore."

The comment takes the girl slightly aback. "Do what?"

Another sniff followed by a choked gasp. "Nothing."

The girl groans in frustration.

"Sam, I'm supposed to be your best friend! Now you're calling me at two in the morning crying and won't even tell me…"

"I'm pregnant!" Sam shouts, cutting her friend off. The girl immediately falls silent, listening to Sam's pathetic sobbing.

"What?" The girl finally manages to whisper.

"You heard me." The girl's mouth hangs open as she searches for something to say. Nothing comes out. Sam continues her short, choked gasps.

"Whose?" the girl finally manages to ask.

"Does it matter?" Sam asks, though she already knows the answer to this question. She sighs. "It's Freddie's."

The girl is speechless.

"What?" she finally exclaims. Sam had been expecting that reaction.

"It's Freddie's," she repeats.

"But…you guys…"

"Look, it doesn't matter how we feel about each other or how it happened," Sam growls. "What matters is how I'm going to fix this."

"You're not seriously considering…"

"Yeah, I am. Tomorrow. Come with me."

"Sam…you know how I feel about that!"

"Carly, please."

The girl hears the desperation in her best friend's voice. She takes a deep breath, willing the churning in her stomach to subside. In a very weak voice, she manages to answer, "Fine."

* * *

_They're fighting again._

_Screaming at each other so loud they're sure the entire building can hear them. _

_Sam doesn't care, and she's sure Freddie doesn't either. This isn't the first time it's happened. Their words bounce off the brick walls and echo through the room._

_Sam has forgotten what they're even fighting about. _

_The fight has turned into insults. Verbal jabs back and forth until someone backs down, though each one knows neither will._

_Sam isn't sure she can continue. Her throat is sore from all the yelling. Tears of anger brim her eyes, but she blinks them back rapidly. She won't let him see her cry; she never lets him see her cry. _

"_What do you want from me?" she finally screams, feeling as if she's reached her breaking point. _

_Before either of them knows what is happening, Freddie grabs Sam roughly by her shoulders and pins her against the wall. _

"_Everything," he growls. _

_Suddenly, they're kissing, and it's not soft and gentle by any means. It's rough and needy. Hands roam, pulling hair, scratching skin, pulling each other as close as possible. Sam feels Freddie bite down sharply on her bottom lip and she whimpers slightly._

_But she knows she's wanted this for a long time._

_Freddie begins nipping roughly at her neck. Sam feels an involuntary sigh escape her lips. He captures her mouth with his own again, forcing her back against the wall. His lips are strong, fast, greedy, but Sam feels like she never wants him to stop…_

Sam awakes from the memory with a start. She looks around quickly before registering where she is. Carly is driving her old, rusted Ford pick-up and Sam is in the passenger seat. Sam slumps further into the worn leather seat, staring blankly out the window. She notices Carly swiftly turn and look at her for a brief second.

"You really want to go through with this?" Sam nods, still silent. Her expression is unreadable. "There are other options…"

"Not for me," Sam grumbles. Carly presses her lips together, nodding. She knows what would unfold if and when Sam's father found out. They continue down the nearly bare stretch of highway in silence. Not many people are out and about at 4:30 in the morning on a Saturday. Carly had wondered why Sam insisted on leaving so early, but she didn't question it.

As they pull off the highway, Carly gives a quick glance over to Sam again. Her expression is still unreadable. Carly finally opens her mouth to break the silence, "Why did we leave so early?"

Sam shrugs. "Felt like it?"

Carly rolls her eyes. "Sam, the only thing you ever feel like doing at this hour is sleeping, especially on a Saturday!"

Sam sighs. "Didn't wanna risk my parents finding out," she offers reluctantly. Carly knows that isn't all, but she doesn't press the issue. They finally arrive at the clinic, and Carly notices Sam shudder slightly beside her.

"It's not open," Carly muses.

"We can wait," Sam answers.

Carly exhales softly and nods. "OK.

* * *

A boy sits in his kitchen, a bottle clutched between his hands. He's trying to kill the memories, but they're too damn persistent. No matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he indulges, they're still there. He takes a long gulp from the bottle, relishing the burn as it travels down his throat. He can't see straight, but that's ok. He can't remember the last time he could see straight, can't remember the last time he was sober.

"Stupid bitch," he mumbles almost incoherently. "Stupid f-fucking whore."

The memories are back, and he doesn't notice the tears that begin to roll down his face. He doesn't like to think about her. He doesn't like to believe he wants her, needs her, _loves_ her…

Loves her. Does he love her? He expects someone to answer, but no answer comes-only the silent hum of his house. A bottle of Jack is his only company.

He takes another swig.

"Please," he sobs to nobody in particular. He begs the memories to leave, but the little fuckers are too persistent.

_Freddie, I'm pregnant…Don't do anything, it's my own problem…I don't need you…_

_I don't need you…_

_Don't need you…_

_Don't need…_

He swipes the bottle angrily off the table. The sound of shattering glass breaks the silence, but only briefly.

"Fuck you!" he screams at the silence. "Can't you see _I_ need _you_?" He collapses onto the floor, broken glass piercing his skin. He doesn't notice. He covers his face with his hands and begins to sob.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I apologize if this chapter is short, but I promise the other ones won't be. Enjoy!**

Sam sits in a hard plastic hair, hugging her knees to her chest. Her chin rests on top of her knees, and her timid eyes scan the small room. They weren't the only ones there-a fact that quickly made Sam uncomfortable. It was one thing for Carly to know her situation, it was another for the whole damn neighborhood to show up. Sam knows she's exaggerating (as only about three women other than Carly share the room) but she can't help the discomfort that rises in her body. As her eyes scan each clinic-goer, she meets one woman's gaze. The woman's stare is hard, judgmental, almost…condemning. Sam fights the urge to ask the woman what her problem is.

_It's not like she's not here for the very same reason…_

Sam shivers, choking back a sob.

"What's wrong?" Carly immediately asks. Sam sniffs, shaking her head. "Sam…"

"I'm scared," she chokes out. "I'm really scared." Carly puts an arm around her best friend, rubbing her shoulders soothingly.

"It's ok," she whispers. "We'll get through this together."

"We?" Sam snaps, pulling out of Carly's embrace. "I'm sory, I didn't realize you were about to murder your unborn child as well!" Fresh tears stream down Sam's cheeks. Carly opens her mouth to respond, then quickly shuts it. Sam buries her head in her knees, sobbing.

"I'm sorry," she gasps. "I'm sorry, please don't leave me alone." Carly feels her heart break for her best friend. She'd never seen Sam so vulnerable, so scared, before. She timidly puts an arm around Sam's shoulder again, and feels relief when Sam leans into the embrace. Her hysterical sobbing had cooled to soft whimpers. Sam lays her head on Carly's shoulder. Carly softly rubs Sam's arm, absently scanning the room. She notices a woman shake her head sadly, mumbling to herself:

"What a shame."

"Excuse me?" Carly demands, standing up. Sam grabs her arm.

"Carls, don't…"

"Who are you to judge her?" Carly continues, ignoring Sam's pleas.

"Your friend is just so young, it's a shame she's wound up here."

"Like you're in any different boat! An abortion is murder, no matter what age! It doesn't make you any better to be sitting here just because you're older!"

Carly is vaguely aware of movement behind her, and suddenly Sam is out the door. Carly runs after her, finding her vomiting violently into the bushes.

"Sam…"

"Just leave me alone."

"Sam, I'm sorry. I got carried away…"

"So never mind making your best friend who's already scared to death feel like shit! No, I totally forgive you."

"You know I'd support any decision you make," Carly says softly. She reaches into her purse, extracting a few tissues and handing them to Sam. Sam accepts them, blotting her reddening eyes and wiping her mouth. The girls stand in silence for what feels like an eternity.

"I don't know if I can do this," Sam finally admits. "I really don't think I can go through with it I…I couldn't live with myself." Carly nods, opening her arms. Sam gratefully accepts, burying her face in the crook of her best friend's neck. Carly feels her shirt begin to grow damp with Sam's tears.

"Shh," she soothes , gently stroking Sam's hair. "It'll all be ok, no matter what you decide."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, I'm updating really quickly because I already have these chapters written (and I'm procrastinating my studying for finals :p). Just as a note to anyone reading this-my updates after like chapter 5 will not be this quick. Sorry :( **

-3 Months Ago-

Sam sits in her dorm room, aimlessly scrolling through Facebook on her laptop. She hears a knock at the door, and she knows exactly who it is. She doesn't want him here, but she knows she doesn't have much of a choice. He's already opened the door.

"Hey," he says, that familiar smirk crossing his face.

"Hey," Sam replies, keeping her gaze fixed on her laptop. "What's up?" He shrugs, collapsing in a chair next to her. A brief moment of awkward silence hangs between them. She wants to ask about the last time he was here, but she's not one to easily discuss her feelings. She takes a deep breath before closing her laptop and turning towards him.

"So, why are you here again?" she asks, unable to find any other way to communicate her feelings. He clearly doesn't pick up on it because he scrunches his brow in confusion.

"I always visit on Fridays," he answers simply. Sam exhales in frustration and wonders why in the world he wants to pretend like nothing happened last weekend. He cocks his head slightly to the side, that annoying grin spreading further across his face. "What?"

"Nothing," she says shortly, "forget it."

"Sam, something's bugging you."

She doesn't answer. She opts to open her laptop again and continue to browse Facebook, though she knows nothing interesting will be on it. She feels her chair being spun around, and she's facing him again.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"Are you serious right now?" she growls, trying to turn her chair back around. It's no use; his grip is too firm. "Why don't you just leave?" she snaps.

Freddie seems to be taken slightly aback, but he quickly recovers. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to sit here with you acting like nothing happened last time!" Sam bellows, kicking her chair away from Freddie and standing up. "I hate the fact that you come here every week only to have it end up in a fight! I hate knowing that I'm going to spend my entire Friday night pissed off at you! I hate that you've been sitting with that smirk on your face and pretending like nothing happened since you got here!" She's towering over Freddie now, feeling more powerful with her sudden height advantage. His smirk is gone. She can see the set of his jaw, and she knows she's pissing him off.

She takes great pride in pissing him off.

"It doesn't always have to end up in a fight," Freddie grumbles. He's trying to control his anger. "Like right now, we were perfectly fine until you started yelling."

"Oh, so it's always my fault, right? I'm always the bitch that starts it?" Sam seethes. "Well if I'm such a bitch, why are you here every single week?"

Freddie jumps up from his chair to tower over Sam. He grabs her shoulders and pulls her towards him, his forehead resting on hers. "Because I can't stay away," he grumbles through gritted teeth. Sam ignores the flip flops in her stomach and continues to glare at Freddie with everything she has.

"Maybe you should learn to stay away," Sam growls. Freddie gives a short, sarcastic laugh.

"You don't get it, do you? I hate coming down here every week only to get in a fight. I hate the way you blow off my visits, as if they mean nothing. I hate the way you constantly put me down. I hate the fact that you won't talk about your feelings. I hate that you put up this whole 'band girl' demeanor just to keep people out. I hate that I still continue to put up with your shit after all these years. I feel like I hate absolutely everything about you." He leans in closer, his lips barely brushing hers. "So if I feel this way," he continues softly into her lips, "then why the hell do I love you?"

Sam is the one that acts this time. She grabs him by the back of the neck, and forces his lips to hers, kissing him with all the passion in her body. He responds quickly, lifting her up so she wraps her legs around his waist. Their kisses are rough and violent, every emotion that they hold for each other being poured into each one. Sam hardly notices that they have migrated to her bedroom, and that Freddie has laid her on the bottom bunk. Suddenly he's on top of her, his kisses longer and even rougher than before. His hands slide up her shirt, and he is not gentle by any means. She lets out an involuntary moan, and she feels him grin into her mouth.

He knows he now has complete control, and he's loving every second of it.

Her mind is in a fog. She only feels the intense passion coursing through her body, and the need for it to never stop. She hardly notices their clothes have come off. Her mind is focused on Freddie; the way his skin feels against hers, the intense pressure building inside of her, the way his voice sounds calling out her name…

When it's over, neither of them say a word. They lay in silence, staring up at the boards of the top bunk. Finally, Freddie is the one to break the silence.

"I should be going."

Sam nods. She's afraid that if she opens her mouth, she'll say something she'll regret.

She's afraid she'll tell him how she really feels.

Freddie stands up and feels around for his clothes in the darkening room. Sam listens to his footsteps walk towards the door. She hears him open and close it, and she knows that he's gone. For the first time in a long time, a lone tear slides down her cheek. She hastily brushes it away.

_It doesn't matter that that was my first time, and that it meant nothing,_ she finds herself thinking. _I don't even love him anyway._

That thought echoes in her head, and she suddenly hates herself for everything that had just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

-Present Day-

Sam is running, fast. She isn't paying attention to where she's going, but she knows exactly where she is. She's run this path hundreds of times, and could do it in her sleep. She looks back over her shoulder, though she knows nobody is chasing her. Nobody wants to chase her. His words, however, seem to be right alongside her.

_Slut…_

She runs faster, thinking she can outrun the way-too-recent memories.

_Whore…_

Tears are falling down her cheeks, making them sting in the cool spring air. She doesn't pay attention to them. She likes to pretend she isn't crying. Tears are weak, and she is anything but weak.

Maybe if she pretends hard enough, everything will go back to normal.

_Embarrassment…_

Her foot lands in a small hole, causing her ankle to twist. She collapses and rolls onto her back, staring up into the cloudy sky, breathing heavily.

_Failure…_

"Stop," she gasps, clutching her abdomen. "Please, stop." She isn't quite sure to whom she is speaking; she just wants the words ringing in her head to go away. She squeezes her eyes shut, breathing deeply and willing the nausea in her stomach to subside. Tears leak from her eyelids, and she clenches her teeth, hating herself for being so pathetic.

_I don't need him, _she thinks, _I don't need them. I can do this on my own. I don't need anybody._

As if trying to contradict her, memories from the afternoon flood into her mind like a waterfall.

* * *

_She is standing in the living room, looking both of her parents in the eye. They're looking back at her, questions filling their eyes. _

"_I, uh…I need to tell you guys something."_

"_What is it?" her mom asks, concern painting her face. Sam takes a deep breath and closes her eyes._

"_I'm pregnant." _

_Dead silence. _

_She opens her eyes, looking at her parents. They stare back at her, shock written all over their faces. _

"_Well…uh….wh-who's the father?" her mother finally asks. Sam knows it's just something to say to break the tension, but she answers anyway. _

"_Um…Freddie Benson," she says awkwardly. Her mother's eyes widen, and her father's expression stays stoic. _

"_Fr…Freddie Benson?"_

_The surprise in her voice could not be more obvious._

_Sam shrugs, refusing to go into details about the night Freddie came to visit. _

"_Well, how long ago did this happen?" her mother asks._

"_About three months," Sam confesses. _

"_And you're just telling us now?" _

_Sam takes a deep breath before answering._

"_I told Carly last night, and she drove me up to the abortion clinic." Sam's mother gasps in shock, but Sam continues speaking, unfazed. "Basically, when we got there, I just couldn't go through with it." _

"_Sam," her mother breathes, her hand on her chest. "Oh, Sam." Sam feels her knees go weak and collapses onto the floor. Her mother stands up and rushes to her side. She wraps her arms protectively around her daughter. "It's going to be ok," she whispers, stroking Sam's hair. Sam is so shocked at this gesture of kindness that tears begin to line her eyes. The last time she and her mother had been this close, Sam was only a little girl. _

"_So…you guys aren't mad?" Sam chokes out, looking up at her dad specifically._

"_Mad?" her father finally asks, speaking his first word since the news. "Why would we be mad?" There is something about the way he says this; his voice is not kind and gentle by any means. He slowly stands up from his chair, walking towards the heap that is Sam and her mother. "Should we be mad that our daughter is a slut? A whore? A failure?"_

"_Daddy…" Sam begins in a small voice._

"_Go," he says sternly, silencing her pleas. _

"_Daddy…please…"_

"_GO!" he shouts, his voice booming through the house. He thrusts a finger at the front door. "You're nothing but an embarrassment to this family."_

"_John…" her mother pleads, but one glare from him silences her immediately. _

"_I'm not an embarrassment," Sam answers, standing up and facing her father. Her recent weakness has receded to the back of her mind. She feels fury begin to fill her body. _

"_You go to college for one year, and come back pregnant," her father seethes. "You're nothing but a whore, just like your mother." Sam hears her mother gasp behind her, and she clenches her teeth tightly. She rears back and shoves her dad as hard as she can manage. It moves him, but only slightly. He returns her gesture with a quick and painful slap to the face. Sam hears her mother cry out, but Sam knows she won't do anything to stop him. Her father grabs her by the arm and pulls her closely to him._

"_You have about ten seconds to get the hell out of my house," he growls. _

"_Or what?" she spits._

"_I suggest you don't stay to find out." For a brief moment, Sam considers standing her ground, but the safety of her baby is at the front of her mind._

"_I hate you," she says darkly before wrenching out of his grip and sprinting towards the door._

* * *

Sam takes a deep breath before standing back up, slowly putting weight back on her twisted ankle. It hurts, but she's strong enough to get through the pain.

She begins running again, faster than she had before. She feels a few droplets of rain hit her face, and she knows a storm is about to come. Her breathing is heavy, and she feels a cramp beginning to form in her right side, but she keeps pressing on. She finally finds herself at Bushwell Plaza, panting heavily. She wrenches the doors open and dashes up the stairs, deciding she didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator. Eventually, she reaches the eighth floor and Carly's apartment.

Carly is in the middle of eating a cup of yogurt when she hears frantic knocking at her door. She gets up to answer it, and is greeted by a dripping wet and panting Sam.

"Sam…" Carly begins, but Sam puts her hand up to silence her.

"I need…to stay…with you," Sam breathes. Carly steps aside, allowing her best friend access to her apartment. Sam walks in and immediately collapses on the couch.

"What happened?" Carly asks, noticing a bright red mark on Sam's left cheek.

"Nothing," Sam answers, kicking off her shoes and lying flat on the couch. "Don't worry about it."

"You show up at my house soaking wet and covered in mud, and I'm supposed to not worry about it?"

"Pretty much."

"Sam!"

"Carly!" Sam snaps loudly. "Just drop it, ok?" Carly is immediately silent. She walks over to the couch and puts a comforting arm around her best friend.

"You can stay here," Carly whispers, "for as long as you need."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I really really hope you guys like this so far. Please tell me what you think! Literally all reviews are appreciated, good or bad!**

Sam awakes to bright sunlight streaming through the windows of the Shay's apartment. She blinks a few times, allowing her eyes to adjust. She rolls onto her side, reaching for the remote. What she really needs right now is mindless television.

"You're awake," she hears a way-too-cheery voice call from the kitchen.

"Uh huh," she answers groggily, stifling a yawn. Carly walks into the family room and plops onto the couch at Sam's feat.

"Whatchya watchin?"

"Idunno," Sam answers. It's too early for her to comprehend much of what's going on. She yawns once more and stretches her arms above her head. "What's for breakfast?"

"Go make your own breakfast," Carly answers.

"Fine," she groans, standing up and heading for the kitchen. Sam searches the kitchen, and eventually settles on a box of cereal and a gallon of milk and brings them back to the couch.

"We have bowls, you know," Carly muses, watching Sam sit back down on the couch.

"So?" Sam replies, opening the box of cereal and shoving a handful into her mouth. She follows the action by taking a big swig straight out of the gallon of milk. Carly winces slightly.

"At least you don't have a disease or anything," she mumbles, shaking her head as Sam continues her breakfast routine.

"So whuh ah we doin' toodeh?" Sam asks around a mouthful of cereal.

"I don't know," Carly answers. "And swallow your food before you talk!"

Sam swallows and speaks again, "What's going on today?"

"Again, I don't know."

Sam shrugs and continues shoveling her face full of cereal.

"So, um," Carly starts nervously, "I know you may not wanna talk about this…"

Sam stops eating her cereal and stares up at Carly.

"What…uh…what are you doing about the baby?" Sam is silent for a moment, looking down at the floor. Finally, she takes a deep breath and answers.

"I'm not sure," she confesses. "I told my parents last night. They weren't exactly thrilled about it, so that's why I'm here. I know I should put it up for adoption, but if I carry it to term…I'm not sure I will be able to do that." Carly nods silently.

A quiet moment hangs between them before Sam speaks again:

"What do you think I should do?"

"It's not really my place to say," Carly answers.

"But what would you do, you know, in my situation?"

Carly sighs. "You're not going to like what I have to say."

"Please tell me."

"If it were me...honestly, I would make up with Freddie and…and I'd seriously consider keeping it." Sam doesn't speak, but Carly can read in her expression that she is processing what Carly has just said.

"Freddie hates me," Sam finally sighs, her voice very soft.

"No he doesn't," Carly assures her.

"Really?" Sam fights back. "After what I did to him, he doesn't hate me?"

"Well, you never know unless you talk to him."

* * *

A boy awakes sometime in the mid-morning, his forehead throbbing excruciatingly. He groans, scrunching his already closed eyes at the rays of sunlight streaming into his bedroom. He pulls his blanket over his face, willing the pain of his latest hangover to subside. He would've thought the hangovers would be better by now, but he was sadly mistaken. A small knock on the door hits his ears like cannons, and he groans irritably from under his covers. The knocks come again, more loudly this time, and he figures the only way to make the noise stop is to get out of bed.

"Coming," he moans from his bedroom, slowly shuffling towards his front door. The pounding continues, each one ringing like a gunshot in his ears. "I'm coming!" He growls as he puts his hand on the knob. "Quit being so damn…" His sentence is cut short when his eyes land on the girl in front of him. Her hand is in mid-knock, and she slowly lowers it, her eyes still connected with his.

"Hi," she says softly.

"Hi," he responds, his eyes still slightly squinted.

"Can, uh…can I come in?"

He steps aside, allowing her access to his apartment. She tentatively steps through the doorway, looking around.

"So, why are you here?" he asks groggily, closing the door and turning to face her. She nervously claps her hands a few times and bites her lip.

"I uh…I came to tell you something," she says, still not looking at his face. Her eyes scan the floor before landing on an empty bottle right next to the couch. She scrunches her eyebrows. "What is that?"

"Uh, nothing," Freddie says hastily, quickly walking over and kicking the bottle under the couch. Sam walks toward him.

"What was that?" she asks again, looking demandingly into his eyes.

"Don't worry about it," he responds. "What did you want to tell me?"'

Sam moves quickly, flattening herself on the ground and reaching under the couch. Her fingers come in contact with a solid, glass object, and she closes her hand around it before pulling it out from under the couch. She turns it over in her hands, reading the label.

"Whiskey?" she asks, her voice straining to stay calm. Freddie stays silent. Sam looks up at him, her gaze piercing through him.

"Look, Sam," Freddie stammers, but Sam cuts him off.

"You're drinking?"

"I…uh….kind of," he answers, defeated.

"Why?" she hisses.

His head is pounding. He can't think of a decent sounding answer.

"Why do you think?" he mumbles stupidly.

Her grip tightens on the bottle and she closes her eyes. "How often?"

"Huh?"

"How often do you drink?" she shouts. Freddie opens his mouth to answer, but immediately shuts it. It doesn't matter how he answers because the evidence is pretty clear. Sam shakes her head.

"I can't believe I actually thought that you could make a decent father," she seethes.

"Wh-what?" Freddie asks lamely.

"I'm keeping the kid, Freddie," Sam says loudly, staring daggers at him. "But don't worry about helping. I don't need…_this_ anywhere near my child." She throws the bottle onto the ground and storms out of the apartment, leaving the echo of shattering glass in her wake.

**A/N: Again, please R&R. I really wanna know what you guys think! Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

-2 months ago-

It's 5:00 on a Friday afternoon. He should be on his way to visit her. In fact, on any other given Friday, he'd be about halfway there by now.

But that was before everything happened, before he'd lost his best friend.

Today, he sits in his dorm room alone, just like he has for the past three Fridays. The lights are out. The television is on mute, casting eerie glows throughout the darkening room. He's stopped paying attention to what show is on. Hell, he can't even remember what channel it's on.

He hasn't been able to pay attention to much lately.

He attempts to avert his attention to his open physics book. He knows he should be studying. He has a huge exam on Monday, and it very well may make or break his grade. The letters on the page seem to twist and turn in front of his eyes. It all looks like gibberish.

He doesn't even know what physics is anymore.

He slams his book in frustration, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. Her face immediately comes to mind, but he doesn't expect anything different. This happens every time he closes his eyes; he remembers her face, her smile, her eyes…

He kicks back from his desk, his chair rolling quickly over the tile floor and roughly hitting his bed on the other side of the room. He wants so badly to forget, wants so badly to wish it had never happened.

It did happen, and he can't change that fact.

It's 5:15.

He contemplates his leaving her for what seems like the millionth time. He knows damn well how he feels about her, so why did he walk out three weeks ago? Better yet, why hasn't she tried to contact him?

He laughs out loud at his own stupidity. Has she ever been one to seem that vulnerable, that pathetic? Why in the world would she call the scumbag that took her virginity and immediately walked out?

Freddie stands up from his chair and begins to pace the room. There has to be something he can do to get his mind off of her.

It's 5:20.

He thinks about getting dinner, though he's not particularly hungry. He pulls his chair back over to his desk, turning on his computer and opening his web browser. He absently scrolls through his school's website, navigating himself to the dining hall page.

The dining hall is serving tacos tonight. Freddie grumbles inwardly. He's never particularly liked tacos. However, the dining hall is full of people, and it would be nice to get out of this damn dorm room for a little bit. He turns off his computer and swipes his keys off of his desk, deciding that forcing a few tacos down his throat was better than sitting up in a dark room wallowing in his own self-pity. He takes the few steps toward his door, noting, not for the first time, how small his dorm room really is.

It's 5:30.

As he reaches for the handle, he sees it turn on its own. He jumps back as the door opens and a visitor steps inside.

Freddie can't seem to find words. The two students stand, staring at each other. Finally, the visitor takes one timid step forward.

"Hi," she offers.

"Hi," Freddie chokes out. Then, for good measure,"How have you been?"

The girl lets out a short laugh. "Are you serious?" she demands. "It's been nearly a month and all you can say is, 'how have you been'?"

Freddie is silent. He doesn't want to fight with her, not again. The girl sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Look, I know that you don't want a whole lot to do with me right now, so I won't take up too much of your time," she says.

"Sam…" Freddie begins, but is cut off by her words.

"Freddie, please shut up and let me talk. I just came by to tell you something that I think you should know." Sam doesn't say any more for a few moments. Freddie remains silent, waiting for her to continue. She finally closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and speaks, "I'm pregnant."

Freddie feels his jaw drop.

"Don't worry about doing anything," she continues. "It's my problem, and quite frankly, I don't need you. I can take care of everything on my own."

Freddie is searching for words, but his throat feels as if it has shut completely.

Sam stares at him, waiting for a response. When it doesn't come, she shakes her head and begins move back towards the door.

Freddie feels as if he can't breathe. He's trying with all his might to say something, _anything_, but his vocal chords may as well be non-existent.

"I just thought you should know," Sam says quietly. "But, like I said, I don't need you to do anything for me." The door is open now. Sam is stepping through it. "Goodbye, Freddie," she says softly before closing the door completely.

"Sam," Freddie whispers hoarsely. "Sam!" he calls again, dashing toward the door. He throws it open, expecting her to be waiting just on the other side.

She isn't.

She's gone.

It's 5:45.

It's been 15 minutes, and Freddie's world has been completely turned upside down.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So, I've been super buys with finals and whatnot. I've also realized that I write a lot better when I have other things that I should be doing (like studying for finals or writing final papers :p). I've finished almost everything now, but I've found that I'm so worn out from finals that I don't even know how to write anymore lol. Anyway, that's why I haven't been updating super quickly, but I figured I owed whoever was reading this another chapter.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed. They're greatly appreciated!**

**Now, here's my pathetic attempt at chapter 7. Enjoy!**

Chapter 7

-Present Day-

_She's in a crystal-clear lake, surrounded by beauty and nature. She can't remember how she got there, but she doesn't care. The water is cool, refreshing, and blue; so very blue. _

"_You can't catch me!" she calls behind her, moving gracefully through the water. She finds herself moving more and more slowly. The water has begun to resist her movements._

"_You can't run from me forever!" a voice behind her responds. _

_The water continues to resist her movement. She stops moving and instead falls backwards, allowing the coolness to wash over her entire body. She feels a pair of strong arms grab her, lifting her back to the surface. She takes a deep breath of fresh air. _

_The arms pull her close against a warm, sculpted body. She folds into him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. It's so familiar, painfully familiar._

"_I caught you," he whispers into her ear._

_Then they're kissing, and it's exactly how she remembers. She wraps her legs around his waist, locking their bodies together. She feels him growing hard underneath her, and she lets out a soft moan into his lips. She grounds her hips against him, and he lets out a low growl in response. He begins to run his hands down her body, and she lays back, allowing him access to all of her. His light touch is quickly replaced by his hot mouth, trailing wet kisses all the way down her body. _

_His kisses are trailing lower and lower, preparing to give her exactly what she wants. He reaches the spot just below her belly button and stops. He looks up at her, teasing her, his eyes gleaming with desire. _

"_Keep going," she pants, "please." _

_He smiles, revealing a pair of sharp incisors. Suddenly, he bites down on the spot right below her belly button. She screams, pain ripping through her entire body. Blood begins to seep from her open wounds into the water, immediately turning the water a sick shade of red. _

_Just as the pain is subsiding, he bites down again, sending a fresh wave of agony through her entire body. _

"_Stop it!" she screams, but she can't get away. His hold on her is too strong. _

_The warm blood rolls down her legs, drenching her entire lower half. The lake is thick with blood._

_The lake has become blood. _

_She tries to scream again, but no sound will come out. She wonders if the pain will ever go away. She wonders…_

Sam wakes with a start, shooting to an upright position on the couch. She's panting, a fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead.

Suddenly, a tremendous cramp rips through her lower abdomen. She represses a scream, wrapping her hands around herself.

'What's happening to me?' she thinks as the pain begins to subside. Her palms are slick with sweat. She attempts to wipe them off on her blanket. That's when she first notices it.

With shaky hands, she slowly peels the sheet from her damp body. When she can finally find her voice, she lets out an ear-shattering scream.

* * *

Carly wakes with a start, swearing that she had heard someone screaming. She quickly flips on the lamp next to her bed and listens hard. Another scream, clear as a bell, comes echoing from downstairs. Carly immediately jumps out of bed and runs downstairs. The shadowy figure of Sam was sitting up on the couch, holding her hands up in front of her face.

"Sam!" Carly calls, turning on the living room light. "Sam, are you alright?"

Slowly, Sam turns towards her best friend. Her face is drained of all color, and Carly notices that she's shaking uncontrollably.

"Carly," Sam chokes out, holding her hands out for her best friend to see. Carly shrieks.

Sam's hands are drenched in blood.

"Carly," Sam manages again, "it…it's everywhere."

Carly doesn't realize she's called an ambulance until she hears the sirens outside the apartment. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her best friend, slowly rocking her back and forth. She's vaguely aware of the fact that she's sobbing irrepressibly.

"It's gonna be ok," Carly cries, tightening her grip around her best friend. Then, in a hoarse whisper, she adds, "Please…please be ok."

**A/N: Um…so yeah. I apologize if this disturbed anyone, but I did warn that there was going to be quite a bit of mature content in this story. This is what I was talking about. **


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